


i close my eyes (and i take it in)

by stardustgirl



Series: with the darkness fed (i will be your scarecrow) [1]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Clone Wars, Clones, Coping, Death, Five Stages of Grief, Flashbacks, Geonosis (Star Wars), Grief/Mourning, Implied Master/Padawan Relationship(s), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jedi, Jedi Temple (Star Wars), Kanan Jarrus Has PTSD, Kanan Jarrus Needs a Hug, Kanan Jarrus-centric, Loss of Parent(s), Medium Angst, Near Death Experiences, Parent Death, Partial Mind Control, Past Character Death, Post-Battle of Geonosis, Post-Episode: s02e07 Legacy of Terror, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Survivor Guilt, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, past angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-26 22:53:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18726481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustgirl/pseuds/stardustgirl
Summary: Two months afterward, Mace finally talks to Caleb about Depa's death and what happens next.





	i close my eyes (and i take it in)

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Referenced Death of Parental Figure, Implied/Referenced Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

“Caleb, come.  Sit.”

Caleb turns warily, jumping when Mace waves a hand and the door shuts behind him with a near-silent thud that still manages to set off his nerves.  Shivering, he approaches, stopping to the side of the chair across from his grandmaster.

“You can sit down,” Mace repeats, and this time Caleb actually takes him up on it.  “Do you know why I asked you to come?”

“No,” he answers truthfully, voice hoarse from disuse.  “I don’t.” There’s a raw undertone to it from the endless rounds of tears he’s been shedding for the past two months, and he knows that Mace catches it when he narrows his eyes fractionally.

“Hazard a guess.”

It feels like an order, though Caleb knows it isn’t.

 _“Get a_ grip _on yourself, Padawan!” Stance is yelling, Caleb’s face still stinging.  He knows it’s not Stance, not_ really _Stance, but that doesn’t help._

“Caleb?”

He jumps again, blinking rapidly.

“Do you have a guess as to why you’re here?”

He shrugs.  “I dunno.”

Mace hums, studying him for a long moment before finally nodding decisively, as if having reached a conclusion.  “You’re here because some of us on the Council have concerns about your...condition.”

“What condition?”

“Your...attachment, to put it more simply.”

 _Depa stares up, unseeing, at him, and he knows he needs to leave before another of the clones finds him, but Depa’s just died--_ been shot, she’s not dead-- _and he’s just killed Big Mouth--_

“I don’t have any attachments,” he answers hollowly, gaze flicking to the woodgrain of the table as he avoids Mace’s gaze.

“Caleb, it’s okay to have attachments to an extent.  But you have to _move on._  It’s been _two months._ ”

Two months stuck on the ship, two months before they realized something was wrong, that Styles wasn’t Styles and Grey wasn’t Grey.  He gives an involuntary shudder.

“I know.”

“I’m worried about you.  The _Council_ is worried about you.”

“I know,” he repeats, voice still small.  He tracks the lines of the table with his eyes, trying to keep from seeing Remo’s helmet in the spaces between them.

“You need a _Master,_ Caleb.”

“I have Depa.”

“But you _don’t._  Depa’s _dead,_ Caleb, and I want to believe it as much as you do--but we _have to move on._ ”

“And what if I don’t want to?  What if I _can’t?_ ” he asks quickly, eyes flashing as he returns his gaze to his grandmaster.  “What if I _can’t_ move on, and what if- what if I don’t _want to?_  I can’t just- I can’t just--”

Mace moves, placing his hand on the table maybe, but the movement catches Caleb off guard enough that he’s fumbling for his ‘saber and igniting it dangerously close to the other Jedi’s face.  When he realizes what he’s done, he immediately sheathes the blade, staring at it in shock.

“This is exactly why you need one, Caleb.”

“And why can’t _you_ teach me?”

“Because I’m on the Council.  You know I can’t.”

“You could always leave it.”

The man sighs deeply, and Caleb knows his answer is final before he even says it.  “The Council needs me, Caleb. I’m sorry. I really am. But the Force is calling me to the Council, and it’s calling you somewhere else.  You can sense it, I know you can.”

“I know.”

Mace runs a hand over his face, and Caleb flinches for less than a second before recognizing the movement as harmless.  “Look, Caleb, I….I want you to keep progressing in your training. And you need a Master to do that.”

“Not yet.  Please. If you have to, at some point...just not...not yet.”  His voice is still quiet, though now it’s slightly strained and desperate.  Mace nods slowly, seeming to think it over.

“I’ll talk to the Council about it, but you do realize that you’ll have to have one.  But like you said, Caleb. At some point. That doesn’t mean now, or tomorrow. Whether or not the Council agrees, you’ll have time to think about it, regardless.  Okay?”

Caleb nods, a slight, small movement.  The table is still more interesting than looking Mace in the eyes.  Still more interesting than the question of his future Master.

“In the meantime, you should start getting back into a routine.  You can help Master Nu in the Archives, I can talk to the crechemaster on your behalf...we’ll find something.  It’s better to keep busy, it...helps, somewhat.” He barely registers the words, only giving the same, small nod again.  Stance’s face stares up at him from the table and he clenches his eyes shut, a shuddering breath escaping him as he reopens them.  “And if you need to talk about it...I can help with that, too. You can go.”

Caleb rises, blaster bolts still echoing in his ears as he finally meets Mace’s gaze for a brief glance.  “Thank you, Master Windu.”

“It’s Mace.  And the Force will be with you, Caleb.”

He walks to the door, pausing with his hand hovering above the keypad as he squeezes his eyes closed again, because the _Force wasn’t with her and it wasn’t with him and it certainly hadn’t been with any of the clones--_

“Thank you.”  He opens his eyes, palms the door open, and walks out silently, headed Force knows where.

He certainly doesn’t know.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so, so sorry.
> 
> Join the Rebels Discord [here](https://discord.gg/A9aCvce)!


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